


Chasing Normality

by ThatFeanorian



Series: To Build The Bonds That Tie [10]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Finarfin is a good uncle, I'm sorry I'm making Mae suffer, Maedhros has both, Modern AU, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Self Esteem Issues, So much angst, depression and anxiety, discussions of therapy, in which Maedhros finally gets some help, things are going to get better I promise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-17 13:34:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29472534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatFeanorian/pseuds/ThatFeanorian
Summary: Maedhros knows that he is fine. He has always been fine. No one needs to know all the things he feels that aren't fine... right?
Relationships: Amras & Amrod & Caranthir & Celegorm & Curufin & Fëanor & Maedhros & Maglor (Tolkien), Finarfin | Arafinwë & Maedhros | Maitimo, Maedhros | Maitimo & Maglor | Makalaurë, Maedhros | Maitimo & Sons of Fëanor
Series: To Build The Bonds That Tie [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1710157
Comments: 8
Kudos: 18





	Chasing Normality

**Author's Note:**

> This one is angsty again because I can't seem to write happy things but at least we're heading in the right direction here, right?

Maedhros still eats alone. Junior year of high school has done many things to him: Maedhros has grown 3 more inches, he has become a tutor in both English and History, and he has passed his driving test, but one thing remains the same and that is that however hard Maedhros tries, he cannot seem to manage to find people like him. 

It is not as if he hasn’t had offers: the pride club has invited him to their table and Maglor has offered Maedhros a place with his freshman friends, but Maedhros simply cannot bring himself to accept when he is sure that it would only take a moment for these new people to realize that he is worthless.

It is as if he is wearing a raincoat, opaque to all but he. Maedhros understands the rot festering beneath it, but to everyone around him, he looks normal. One day, Maedhros is sure, the rain will stop and he will be forced to take the coat off and everyone will see what he truly is: a broken, worthless, rotting piece of filth.

So Maedhros sits, alone, in the corner beneath the stairs and carefully unwraps the sandwich he made for himself earlier that day and eats in silence, wishing he couldn’t hear the whooping cries echoing from the cafeteria below. He reaches into his bag and pulls out a book, leaning back against the wall and into the shadows of his chosen corner. Here, far away from the loudness and the social explosiveness that is the rest of the school, Maedhros can be safe. He knows where and who he is and there are no unknowns, no variables that he can possibly mess up. It is better this way.

The book draws him in with its enticing words, each sentence pulling him further and further away from reality until he can almost forget that he is alone in a shadowy corner under a staircase, and he is flying on the back of an eagle over mountains and rivers. He is safe and free and it is beautiful. So lost in the moment is he that he almost doesn’t hear the voice when it first speaks to him and it takes a minute for him to realize that indeed anyone has spoken. Blinking a few times, he looks up from the page and pushes his glasses up his nose,

“I’m sorry, what?” He asks politely, glancing up to find himself face to face with his uncle Finarfin, who stands above him with a slight frown on his face,

“Oh! Uncle-- Uncle Ara? What are you doing here?” Finarfin smiles genially and replies, 

“I work here, Maitimo, in the guidance department, didn’t you know?” Maedhros blushes profusely and shakes his head.

“No worries,” Finarfin says with a smile, “I just wanted to let you know that it  _ is _ technically against the rules to be eating on this floor. I won’t say anything, but there are other teachers who would be less lenient.” Maedhros’s heart freezes for a moment in his chest and he forgets how to breathe. Of course. He has been stupid. This is the third floor. Jumping to his feet and hurriedly packing his lunch back into his bag, Maedhros apologises profusely, hating the way his voice trembles slightly as he does. He is seventeen! He is almost an adult! He should be better than this, and yet he is not.

“I’m-- I’m so sorry, I totally forgot, I--”

“As I said, don’t worry about it,” Finarfin says, waving a hand, “it’s just a little thing. Typically no one cares, as long as you’re quiet and don’t make a mess.” Maedhros takes a deep breath, trying to calm the irrational panic that had flooded his veins a moment before and ducks his head, staring hard at his toes as he counts to ten and tries to breathe. Finarfin’s hand comes down on his shoulder and Maedhros looks up in time to see a slight frown on his uncle’s face,

“Say, Maitimo, why don’t you come chat with me for a little while? I feel like it’s been ages since we’ve seen each other and I know my boys are in and out of your house every day. Unless you’ve got somewhere to be?” He asks in such a way that Maedhros somehow understands that it really is his choice, that he is free to stay or go, but Maedhros really doesn’t have anything better to do besides finding another corner to hide in and pretend he isn’t falling apart at the seams, so he nods and replies quietly, 

“Sure.” Hoping it isn’t too obvious that his hands are still shaking. Finarfin gives him a friendly smile and nods his head down the hall, 

“Wonderful! My office is just down here, we can talk in there.” It feels strange, walking side by side with an uncle that he has really only seen two or three times and knowing that he is both teacher and family. Maedhros tries to quell the part of his brain that cries out that he is in trouble, that Finarfin will tell someone, that Maedhros is walking straight into detention on his perfect record. 

His fears, as always, are unfounded. 

Finarfin leads him to a pale blue office decorated from floor to ceiling with children’s art which Maedhros has no doubt are all from his cousins. Indeed he can see nearly all of his brothers depicted at varying points across the walls, from Celegorm with dangerously spiky hair and pointy teeth carrying a misshapen soccer ball to Caranthir with a raincloud over his head and the angriest frown that Maedhros has ever seen on his face. He can even see himself, in the upper righthand corner of the back wall, towering like a flaming giant over a tiny figure with blond hair who he can only assume is one of Finarfin’s children. 

The office looks lived in, homey, welcoming. Maedhros drops his heavy bag with a solid  _ thud _ on the floor and sits silently in the chair Finarfin waves a hand at, saying with another smile,

“Make yourself at home. I don’t mind if you eat in here, but let’s keep it a secret between us, eh?” Maedhros nods and forces a smile, and decides he will not eat the rest of his lunch. It doesn’t seem worth the risk.

Finarfin settles into another chair, pulling it out from behind his desk so that he and Maedhros are opposite one another. He sits quietly for a moment and Maedhros shifts uncomfortably in his chair, regretting his decision to accompany his uncle back to this office. He can feel Finarfin’s eyes analyzing him and he isn’t sure what his uncle might find with his too-bright-blue eyes. 

“So, Maitimo,” Finarfin says at last, and Maedhros’s gaze snaps away from the walls to make eye contact with his uncle,

“Y-yes?” he asks hesitantly, and Finarfin chuckles, leaning over and patting his leg,

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to interrogate you, no need to look so scared.” Maedhros laughs tightly and tries to relax his body a little, but he’s not sure he succeeds in doing anything besides looking more awkward. He is simply too big. His limbs are too long and there is simply too much of him for this tiny room. He feels out of place.

“How’s school going then? Have you started looking at colleges yet? Anywhere you really want to go?” Maedhros is startled, this is not at all the direction he intended this conversation to go, and yet there is so much he wants to talk about, so many things he hasn’t been able to say about school and his fear of college and leaving home. So many things that he can’t talk about because to talk about them would be to admit they exist. Maedhros shrugs and replies,

“Good, I guess. I like all my classes and all that, so…” Finarfin nods sagely, giving Maedhros another of his bright cheerful smiles and Maedhros thinks privately to himself that his uncle perhaps smiles just a little bit too much. No one can really be that happy, can they? 

“Liking all your classes is a good start, and you’re getting good grades, or so your mother tells me?” Maedhros nods and Finarfin steeples his hands thoughtfully, watching Maedhros’s face for a moment before continuing, 

“And socially? I know high school can be a crazy time socially if I’m remembering correctly. How’s that going?” Maedhros grimaces and shrugs, trying not to think of Mairon and how last year he thought he might have been in love. No friends. Not anymore. Not really ever. Maedhros is broken and he knows it. No one would want to be friends even if he tried. 

“I’m fine.” He says automatically because it’s true. Friends aren’t a necessity, not when he has six brothers to take care of. Finarfin regards him for a moment longer and then leans back in his chair, watching Maedhros seriously,

“Maitimo, you’re a good kid, if I believe even a fraction of what your mother has told me. You’re kind and caring and you love your brothers more than I’m sure my sons love each other. That’s a lot to handle alongside school. I get that. I also have the feeling that you weren’t being completely honest with me just now, and that’s okay too. I just want you to know that I’m here both as a counsellor and as your uncle to be someone you can talk to about things you don’t feel like you can tell your family about.” Maedhros hesitates for a moment, unsure what to say in response. It can’t be this easy, there can’t be a way out this simple-- this is what he tells himself because if it isn’t true then he has been alone for so long for no reason. 

“I’m fine,” he says softly, his voice trembling a little, and then he repeats it as if such an act can convince him that it is true, “I’m fine.” Finarfin leans forwards and pats Maedhros’s knee again,

“I know you are. Just looking at your grades is proof that you’re more than fine, but that doesn’t mean that you don’t have problems and worries and fears just like everybody else. As I said, you don’t have to talk to me, but if you ever need someone who you  _ can  _ talk to, I just want you to know that I’m here.” Maedhros nods robotically and gathers his backpack into his arms,

“Uh, thanks… but I should probably go. I have… classes to get to and stuff.” He mutters, well aware that he’s being rude but too scared to stay any longer. Finarfin and his warm understanding smile are too comfortable and reassuring for Maedhros to be entirely sure that nothing will slip from his mouth and into the air between them. 

Finarfin nods without comment but his expression is sad as he watches Maedhros head towards the door and Maedhros keeps his eyes on the ground, trying not to think about the fact that this is yet another person who he has let down. He isn’t sure what stops him, halfway out the door and makes him turn around, but when he does he finds his uncle’s eyes already on him, a soft expression on his face as he gazes up at the full to bursting walls full of children’s drawings. Maedhros finds himself staring at them too, at the circular rendition of Maglor with musical notes around his head, at the two tiny red scribbles that denote Junior’s eyes, and at that one picture of himself, his fiery hair floating around his head as he towers over his cousin like some kind of evil spirit. 

Maedhros isn’t sure what makes him stop but at that moment an enormous roiling wave of desperate despair comes crashing over his chest and Maedhros is frozen in place by the knowledge that he is throwing away the only opportunity he might ever have where someone wants to hear him, where someone wants to listen to all the things he cannot say. 

“I--” Maedhros chokes out, “I--” Finarfin glances over at him and Maedhros swallows hard, unable to take that final step out of his office,

“I guess there’s… there’s one thing.” Maedhros whispers and the words sound too loud in the silent room, but Finarfin doesn’t seem to care. He smiles warmly and motions to the seat that Maedhros so recently vacated and says, 

“I’m here to listen, Maitimo.” 


End file.
